


sink into a softer tomorrow

by twelveam



Series: and then the sun [3]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Developing Friendships, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Gen, Magic, Starting Over
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:47:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22746520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twelveam/pseuds/twelveam
Summary: or: how to start a farm when you're a dragon raised by autumn fey, who was sealed away for the past years for crimes you did not commit, who misses their grandfather more than anything.sun has no idea! but hey at least the bees are pretty friendly?
Series: and then the sun [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629865
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	1. fall into the world below like stars

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to honeycomb farm! we've got bees!  and trauma!  but mostly bees!

> Give my senses over to the darkness --
> 
> \-- with the universe that lies asleep.
> 
> — Fyodor Tyutchev

It's far past midnight when Sun arrives in the valley. The moon is high in the sky, her silver light like a gossamer veil laid out on the ground. 

The grass rustles as Sun walks, eyes burning from exhaustion and still shaking with nerves, their heart beating far too loudly for someone walking on such tranquil land. Quite frankly they’re too tired to keep their eyes open but every small rustle of grass, every hushed sigh of wind, is someone following them. 

A cold blade against their throat, ice shooting through their veins. Or if they’re unlucky, a quick whisper in the old tongue and another century locked behind porcelain walls and magicked chains.

Sun shudders, wraps their arms tight around their body and keeps going. It can’t be that far now. Grandfather’s letter was very clear on the whereabouts of the farm but it said to take the bus and they were much too frightened to do that.

Instead, they walk. They continue to walk until the sky grows lighter, turning purple and pink. The first stray chirps of birdsong begin to fill the air and Sun’s shoulders wind tighter instead of loosening. 

“Oh,” says a bright voice, warm and cheerful despite the early hour. “We thought you were taking the bus!”

Sun’s shoulders go down immediately. Their head comes up and their back straightens as they snap to attention. They are quick to smile, wide and blindingly bright. Nothing about them suggests that they have been drowning in fear since they arrived.

“Good morning” they reply, equally cheerful. “I apologize for the confusion. I much prefer to walk, you see?”

The woman laughs and shakes her head.

"I'll be honest I wasn't expecting that. When Lewis told me you were from the city I expected someone a bit more delicate. You are dressed pretty fancy though I’ll give you that. But still, you can’t have walked _all_ the way here.”

Sun’s laugh comes out a little strained. 

“Of course not!” they say. “That would be...ah..impossible?”

The woman winks at them. “Right? I’m Robin, by the way. Mayor Lewis is at the old place, getting it ready for you.”

“Oh,” says Sun, touched by the kindness. “That’s very sweet of him. Shall we?”

Robin looks entirely amused but her expression is kind as she gestures them forward.

“We shall,” she says with a laugh. “Come on, it’s this way.”

They walk together and Sun tries to take in the beauty of the land, fresh and blooming with the first blush of spring but in truth they are far too tired to keep their eyes open. Robin seems to notice and picks up the pace until they find themselves standing in front of the farmland, vast and sprawling.

The first thing Sun’s eyes fall upon is the estate, looming large but no longer well-kept. Ivy and rosebushes crawl up its sides until the whole building is swallowed by blooming flowers and terribly sharp thorns. The estate lies on the hill and Sun breathes out a quick sigh of relief. It’s more defensible that they thought it would be.

The second thing they notice is the mess. Nature has reclaimed the land, dug her sharpened hands into the ground and took hold of the trees and greenery, growing tall and strong. Sun can feel the deep pulse of her magic, the way everything here reaches up towards the sunlight and thrives.

The farm itself is divided into several hilltops and an abundance of land, all of it overgrown.

This is not like they remembered the farm to be. Not at all.

“Oh my,” they say faintly. “What happened here?”

Robin turns towards them, eyebrows raised. “Time and neglect. It’s been a couple of years since Henri passed and no one has been here since. But it’s not all that bad. There’s still a lot of good soil here.”

Sun hums. 

“Oh yes,” they say absently. “I can tell. The ground is not how it used to be however.”

“You can tell?” says Robin, a little incredulously. “What, did you work with the land a lot, back in the city?”

“Hm? Oh no, not at all!” Sun shakes their head and begins to walk towards the estate. Their heeled boots click neatly against the cobbled stone stairs. “I used to be a detective. But I’ve been here before once or twice. I don’t recall it looking like this.”

“I see,” says Robin as they reach the door. “By the way, I’ve noticed you don’t have any luggage on you.”

“I do actually,” says Sun but before they can elaborate the door swings open and a man comes out of the house. He coughs a little before dusting himself off, startling when he catches sight of Sun.

“You’re early!” he says, looking up at them. And up. And up a little more.

“No,” says Sun, beaming. “I’m Sun. Pleased to meet you.”

“Yoba,” says Robin, covering her face. “I don’t think we can be friends anymore.”

“You must be Lewis,” they continue. “Robin told me you were fixing up the house?”

“Mayor Lewis,” he corrects. “And well, I couldn’t fix much. Most of the house is locked up tight but I did manage to clear up the first room. ”

Sun nods. “You have my thanks regardless. I appreciate it.”

“Not a problem!” says Lewis. “You’ll have a tough time cleaning up I think but well. It is a very old house.”

“You might consider building a new one,” says Robin. “This place looks a little...haunted.”

“Sadly it isn’t,” says Sun, voice dipping a little low before they clear their throat and straighten their shoulders. “Thank you again, Mayor Lewis and Robin.”

Robin nods at them, grinning. “You can take it from here, huh? Well, if you ever need a brand new house you know who to call. It’s a surprise this one’s still standing.”

“Robin!” says Lewis, and then looks at Sun whose smile has not dimmed in the slightest. It’s a little strange that they seem unfazed considering what Henri told him about their emotional and easily hurt disposition but he shakes his head and puts it out of mind. “It was nice meeting you, Sun. Come by the town whenever you’re ready. The townspeople would love to meet you.”

“I’d be delighted to,” says Sun and waves as they walk away, until they disappear. 

They take a deep breath as they turn towards the door, which swings open at their tentative touch.

Sun steps through the threshold.

Sun steps through the threshold and falls apart.

The sound of the door closing behind them is muffled, as though underwater. They cannot move, cannot turn, for their body no longer listens to their commands and only shakes. Shudders wrack their frame as a new outpouring of grief forces its way out of their body. And then another, and another. 

Sun cries what feels like their entire self out on the floors of their grandfather’s old home. 

And then they get up and wash their face and smile in the mirror, like a living thing would.

“Well,” they say, in a voice that hurts to speak in. Their lashes are still heavy with tears, the smile across their face, false and blinding. “I should get to work!”

* * *

.

They dream of the city that night.

They dream of the moment they were awakened.

_Running away from your saviors is bad form, certainly. Sun feels a little guilty about it but not guilty enough to stop from bolting the instant their feet hit the ground. They’re off like a shot the minute they’re set down._

_The world blurs around them, the dark blue sky blended with terrifyingly bright lights. Everything is too much too loud and their body is falling apart on them, unused to the exertion, unused to living again._

_Sun slams into a wall, scraping their shoulder against the stone and gasps for breath, swallowing a cry of pain. It hurts in a sharp stinging way but they pay it no heed. How glorious to feel again! To know the night sky as it sears their lungs, to feel their heart pounding in their chest! Better this pain than the overwhelming emptiness where they mourned even the loss of tears blurring their vision._

_They sniffle and wipe at their face with a trembling hand, startled by the warmth of it. It hits them all at once that they are alive and the strength drains from them in a rush. They stagger as the ground comes up to meet them, catching themself against the wall before they become more intimately acquainted with pain._

_Confirming their existence is all well and good, but they’d rather not bleed again so soon._

_For a minute they stand to catch their breath and try to gather their bearings. Craning their neck to look up at the sky, Sun finds that they are choked into silence, something large and fearful rising in their body to stifle even the faintest cry of shock. The sound dies in the back of their throat. They look up, and up, and up._

_The sky is vast expanse of inky darkness, not a single star in sight. Only a cold, rolling fog that smothers even the moon and steals it from sight._

_T_ _he world is full of light, white light that shines out of towering buildings and tall street lamps. It glowers coldly out of windows like the indifferent gaze of some many-eyed beast, something sharp and angular and iron-smooth. Efficient._

_The streets are full and bursting with noise, the overly loud honks of vehicles that are moving_ entirely _too quickly, small groups of chattering people and larger streams of office workers and other pedestrians moving at a quick, silent clip._

_T_ _he clatter of all the footsteps and the chaos of it all turns Sun’s head, leaves them shocked and reeling. They turn to the alleyways on instinct and trace old roads back in a hazy silence._

_The old apartment block looks much the same but for the light again, jarring in its newness. The door is still swinging, left open by the rush of their recent exit. Everything feels far away and faint as they walk across a hallway that rushed past them in a haze thrown over some helpful stranger’s shoulder, and think_ perhaps if there is still kindness given so freely then the world has not changed too much, _but no. That is a dangerous thought._

_The apartment swings open and they are waiting there, what looks like the whole winter court, cold and beautiful. Sun offers them tea, as is polite to do when you have guests. It doesn’t matter that they’ve been practically dead at their hands all this time. None of that matters here._

_“So,” says Sun, deliberately refusing to make eye contact. They take an elegant sip of their shimmering tea --_ twice the teacup falls from their trembling hands _\-- and savor its sweetness on their tongue --_ far too long until their body remembers how to swallow again. _The delicate blend of vanilla and chamomile with notes of soothing honey is familiar in a wonderful --_ horrible _\-- way, a special blend by a special person._

_One who no longer lives._

_“I hope you’ve all been well.”_

_A thin, broken silence stretches across the room._

_“Where is Henri?”_

_“Child.”_

_“Where is he.”_

_The court does not answer, watching them with eyes both sympathetic and afraid. As if they will burst like a bubble, as if they will shatter like glass. How absurd! A fanciful notion to be sure, but they have always been fanciful. Treating them like a treasure. As if someone like them could ever be likened to such delicate and breakable things._

_“Take a breath,” one of them says gently. Far more kindly than they deserve. “Put the cup down, child. The porcelain is cutting into your hands.”_

_Sun blinks and looks down at the red rivulets streaming down their hand. They didn’t even hear it break. Perhaps they are just that useless, a wastrel who cannot keep hold of anything even slightly precious. Did he also break like this, because of them? Without their notice?_

_How dare they ask for Henri when they were the one to desert him in the first place._

_The world swims around them. Sun struggles to swallow only to fail, for the lump in their throat is far too large and hurts with every ragged breath. Their mind buzzes and buzzes, and somewhere at the back of it someone wails a long breathless scream._

_The voice is their own. They. make. it. stop._

_Their mind quiets all of a sudden. Horribly silent. Deafeningly silent._

_Sun blinks and watches their hand move as if in a dream. The shards of porcelain make soft clicks as they are placed on the saucer, pulled from their palm one by one, laid neat and bloody on the pristine tea service._

_The voice that comes from their mouth is unrecognizable as theirs, hollow and empty. They do not even feel their lips moving._

_“My most sincere apologies. That was rude of me.”_

_Again, they do not make eye contact. After all, it is most improper to cry in front of your guests! They smile instead, a bright unwavering thing that feels rubbery and false as it stretches across their face. Some flinch at the sight of it._

_“Enough,” another says, his own eyes wide and glimmering. “You were wronged. It is within your rights to grieve.”_

_The smile grows wider, shinier. Sun shakes their head, sweeps the hair from their shoulders, tucks a few stray locks behind their ear, and speaks like they are still inside of their body instead of puppeting it from outside. A dead thing faking life and failing, a mockery of every other being that is real._

_“I would not want to waste your time,” they chirp, trying to sound lively. Alive. This won’t do. They’ll be found out. Change the subject. “Pray tell, how has the court ruled in my absence?”_

_“The court has ruled you innocent.”_

_They knew that. They wouldn’t be here if they hadn’t._

_“I am honored by your trust. And where do we go from here? What would the court have me do?”_

_Go away, is not the answer. To leave and never return is not an option._

_Sun has never been more eager to disobey._

_In the end, the court has no choice but to watch them leave._


	2. bring out its long blue shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sun calls upon arcane forces to landscape their farm. the wizard notices.

The morning light is beautiful.

It stabs Sun right in the eyes with a cheerful vengeance and they roll over on the couch and whine into the cushions. Getting up is easy, if only because they didn’t sleep much that night, kept awake by every little noise they heard. 

Sun is fairly sure their mind made some of those sounds up but it doesn’t matter now. Exhaustion pounds at their temples and behind their eyes in a painful headache as they force themself to move.

The floor is cold underneath their feet as they shuffle to the bathroom and wash their face. Catching their face in the mirror, Sun prods at the dark circles underneath their eyes and winces. 

“Unacceptable,” they say underneath their breath, splashing water onto their face as if that will make the marks of over-exerting their body go away. “Have some standards for yourself.”

It is a distinct misfortune that they have never been good at glamours. It would have saved them much grief, especially when dealing with the ever growing signs of tiredness and the hurricane that was their hair.

“Come on,” they mutter, getting their hands tangled in their curls despite the fact that they chopped most of it recently. They try to finger-comb it. It doesn’t work. They grab a brush instead and drag it forcefully through the tangles. “Work with me here you stubborn little -”

Their eyes widen as they realize that they've put too much force into the brush's movement but it's too late.

A loud crash, the sound of a million toiletries tumbling to the ground, and one bruised elbow later, Sun is dressed and ready to face the day. 

Breakfast is nothing because they didn’t think to bring food and being what they are well...from previous experience they know that a few days hungry won’t kill them. 

Sun drinks several cups of tea instead and hopes that suffices. They spend the morning pulling household items from several densely inked pieces of paper. Mayor Lewis was not kidding about the house being in bad shape. He managed to clear out the parlor, where Sun had spent the night, and one of the ensuite rooms. 

Their grandfather’s room, to be exact.

It had a bed. And though the bed had certainly been replaced at some point in time before their arrival, Sun couldn’t bring themself to sleep in it. Being in the room itself was...painful. There were no traces left of their grandfather in it and that pained them more than anything else. They shake their head and move on quickly, unwilling to drown in painful memories again. They throw themself into busywork instead.

Sun sings terribly as they scrub the kitchen floors and counters with lemon cleaning agent. They throw open all the windows and sweep the floors and redecorate the living room and only cry two more times. A new record! 

They drink a few more cups of tea to re-hydrate and move on to the other rooms. One of them is an office, locked. They leave that one be. The others are the library and a few guest rooms which they peek into, dust a little and then leave alone. Time for them later.

The farm is the last thing they have to look at. On their way out the door, Sun spots a box. Opening it reveals a note from Mayor Lewis and several parsnip seeds which they carry with them outside. The day is bright and lovely and Sun finds themself breathing in deeply. The wind brings the scent of growing things to their nose and they feel a bit better.

Some of their grandfather’s tools are already propped up near the entrance, a little old but perfectly serviceable. Sun eyes them skeptically and then picks up the hoe and drags it off to a corner near the house. A quick look around ensures that no one is there to see them make a fool of themself so Sun pushes up their sleeves again and clears a small plot in the ground.

Planting the parsnips is not easy. 

There is dirt everywhere, on their hands and arms, a streak across their forehead from when they wiped their face, and their shoes have sunk straight into the ground. They kick them off and ignore the way their point of view drops several inches lower, too focused on getting the distance between each seed just right.

Growing them is even worse. After their fifth attempt at green magic is blocked, Sun glares at the ground where the seeds are planted and points empathetically at one, almost incandescent with fury. 

“ ** _Grow,_ **damn you!”

The seed does not grow. Their magic rises up in a tidal wave of intent only to slam against a golden wall. They freeze in place. The essence of it is familiar. Too familiar.

Sun drops into a crouch, covers their face and screams into their hands.

An image of their grandfather’s smug smile flashes across their mind and they laugh helplessly, all of their frustration leaving their body. Of course he would do this. They get up to grab the watering can and fill it up, watering the seeds with care.

“I guess you’ll all be growing the normal way then,” they inform the seeds.

The seeds do not answer because they are only seeds, but Sun smiles anyway and coaxes the bountiful green energy sunk deep into their farm towards the small patch of land, so that they may grow big and strong.

Finished with this endeavor and a little upset about how easily they’ve grown tired, Sun pokes and prods at the wards of the household. They stand tall and firm, promising safety so they only strengthen them, not wanting to overwrite their grandfather’s work. One of the wards’ functions is to warn them of incoming visitors which sends such a staggering wave of relief over them that they almost fall over.

Finally, a chance to stretch out! 

Though they will be unable to fly, surely a small walk would be no trouble. And the farm has a lot of space to move around in and plenty of work that would be more easily completed in a larger form! Having convinced themself so thoroughly, Sun moves to a clearer space and allows the shift to ripple through their body.

(From far away, a man with purple hair trips over his feet and makes a choked noise as he tries to catch the bubbling beaker that has just slipped from his fingers. He can feel magic, old and dense and crackling with energy, burst to life from a distance. He grabs his staff and leaves at once.)

The shift is much less smoother than it used to be, owing to their long imprisonment, and the feel of their magic is more jagged and desperate now then before. But it is still such a relief to be in this form. Sun towers above the trees and lets out a deeply satisfied purr. They trot over to where the fallen branches and piles of rocks are thickest and begin to move them around.

The stones they shatter and the branches they cut carefully, trying to make them appear as if they had been chopped with an axe. Sun moves their newly gained materials with their tail to form small, neat piles and arranges the items to their satisfaction. Their nature demands nothing less than perfection.

And then they begin to flatten small hills, digging furrows into the land with their claws to make it easier for things to grow.

“Halt!” comes a strong voice, trying hard to sound stern and failing. “What on earth are you doing?”

Sun moves on instinct which is to say that they slam the ground with their tail to generate dust and obscure vision, throw a condensed ball of light magic at the intruder and shift back as fast as they can. The sound of their magic slamming against a rapidly conjured shield chimes through the air following by coughing as their feet hit the ground with a thump. 

They are poised to run at a moment's notice and panic screeches through them as they realize the wards did not notify them of the arrival. Or perhaps it did and they were too absorbed with stacking things perfectly to notice!

“Wait, wait! I mean no harm,” says the voice, blowing the dust away with a wind spell. 

_Skilled_ , notes Sun at the back of their mind. _Well practiced, a regular combatant...stance far too open to be well-versed in physical altercations. Good. I can take him_.

They move onto the balls of their feet and hold absolutely still, wary and fully prepared to lash out at any hint of violent movement. Still, they smile at the intruder, teeth a bit sharper than usual, broadcasting warning.

“I am the Wizard,” he says, once the dust has cleared. “You may address me as M. Rasmodius.”

“It’s quite smart of you to keep your full name to yourself,” says Sun in return. “Why are you in my home.”

Rasmodius stares at them for a full minute, dumbfounded. “ _Your_ home? Inconceivable. What is a dragon like you doing here on someone else’s land?”

Sun’s smile gains more teeth. Rasmodius clears his throat and backs a few feet away.

“This land was gifted to me by my grandfather -”

“Impossible! Henri was human. A gifted magician certainly, but.”

Sun’s tail thumps against the ground in clear irritation and Rasmodius watches in barely concealed fascination as their ears twitch, scales glimmering with afternoon sunlight.

“If you would let me finish,” they grit out.

He coughs in embarrassment. “Go on.”

“This land was gifted to me _by my grandfather_. I have moved here recently and will be living on this land from here on forth. I sincerely hope there are no issues with this arrangement.” Their smile widens and an unearthly glow shimmers from behind their eyes. Their next words are almost sweet, dripping with honey and venom. “Seeing as I have no intention of changing it.”

Rasmodius clears his throat and offers a short bow in apology.

“I didn’t mean to offend,” he starts. “I knew Henri had a grandchild but I was not aware that they were not of human origin. Forgive me my rudeness. The amount of magic you were giving off startled me and I came to see what was going on.”

Sun sniffs, crossing their arms. 

“You are forgiven,” they say, waving a hand. “And whatever do you mean by not being human?”

“I-pardon?”

“Elaborate.”

Rasmodius gestures to the pointed ears and the tail swishing almost lazily behind their back. 

Sun raises an eyebrow and blinks at him slowly, slit pupils contracting. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He sputters. “You are a dragon, clearly. Anyone with eyes can see it!”

“Am I?” They examine sharp nails for a moment and startle a little, humming softly in realization before shaking their head. Golden light shimmers around them for a moment and their nonhuman traits fade away. They comb their hair over their still pointed ears and offer Rasmodius a winning smile. One that is markedly less sharp but a lot more mischievous. “What makes you say so?”

“Just because you’ve hidden away your features does not mean you are not what you are.”

Sun clicks their tongue at him. “You make no sense at all. And don't speak in puzzles, it makes my head hurt. I’ve never said that I was a dragon.”

“I was not! And you don’t have to _say so_. You already are one!”

“Prove it.”

Rasmodius chokes on his words. 

“Would you like to come in for tea, good sir? You sound a bit strange. Something caught in your throat?”

“I am rather partial to wine,” he says slowly, squinting at them in confusion. “But thank you for the offer.”

“And are you contracted with any of the courts? Spring perhaps?” they say very quickly.

Rasmodius blinks and his eyes widen as understanding lights up in his mind. 

“Ah,” he says. “Certainly not. Though there are quite a few spirits that inhabit these lands, you’ll find that none of them lean towards any court. Neither do any of the nearby inhabitants.”

Relief curves Sun’s shoulders down a few notches and Rasmodius notices, softening his voice.

“And you?”

“Autumn is a lovely season,” they say. “And winter cuts to the bone. But I am proud to say, I am no longer anyone’s but my own.”

“That is no small feat,” he replies. “Stay well then. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“The name is Sun, Wizard. Feel free to come by for another visit. And knock on the wards before you do.”

“Of course,” he says. “Thank you, Sun.”

Rasmodius nods at them in goodbye and marches forward, cloak fluttering behind him. In a flash of purple light he is gone.

Sun collapses onto the ground with a sigh.

“Oh thank goodness,” they say, flopping down onto the grass. “That could have gone much, much worse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> m. rasmodius: you're not human  
> sun: perhaps!  
> m. rasmodius: no not not perhaps! you are very clearly not human! i can see that!  
> sun: maybe :) !
> 
> also the bees will be here soon ! it's called honeycomb farm for a reason !

**Author's Note:**

> this is the main verse for farmer sun ! and i promise things will be coming up sunshine and daisies in the end !  
> [🌼](https://stardewsun.tumblr.com) \- sun's blog.


End file.
